On letting go
Returning here - and insights gained from surrendering to swirling in a black hole of liminal space.
2023 was my year of letting go.
I let go of the apartment I had lived in for 7,5 years, of 2/3 of my belongings and became nomadic. I let go of being nomadic and decided I wanted to live in Helsinki. I let go of the country where I had been based for the past 21 years, and ended up relocating back to my roots in Finland. I let go of my business, and took a sabbatical from my teaching & coaching work. I let go of social media for more than 6 months, and I even let go of this Substack after a relatively short period of writing and creating podcast episodes (in this letter I’ll tell you more about why I did that and also why I’m back and here to stay this time).
I’m already quite experienced in the art of letting go - in the past 7 years I’ve let go of things like: job titles and my teaching position at the music university, where I was teaching voice and music interpretation in the Bachelor program for Music Theater. All kinds of other titles that once seemed important, such as the prefix “Authorised” to my title “Complete Vocal Technique Teacher”. Creative projects that I had outgrown or that were scattering my focus and energy. Work that was draining me. Romantic relationships that were not aligned with the kind of partnership I desire to have and experience. Mindset and beliefs that were limiting me and keeping me stuck. …and so much more.
All of the above have been things that I let go of consciously, voluntarily. But sometimes, if your life has become too cluttered with noise & distractions and you’re unable to recognise the things that you’d better let go of in order to (re)align and create space for something new, I can almost guarantee you that life orchestrates some events that will make you pause, or a chain of involuntary “losses” to create space. (At least that has been my experience).
Either way, being in the liminal space that’s created when you’ve let go of something but cannot yet see the next thing, can either cause a lot of resistance - because your Ego hates being in situations where it’s losing control…and that’s pretty much what happens when some things, titles, beliefs, identities and experiences, even places and people in your life are no longer there to “define” you…
…or that same liminal space can be like a portal that invites you to step deeper into yourself, closer to your Source. That part in you is actually not resisting the liminal space at all, but instead rejoicing the loss of things, mindsets and beliefs that have been “cluttering the radio signal” or distracting you from doing the work that’s needed for you to get even more aligned.
These past 12 months, I’ve experienced both sides of the coin. At first I hesitated and prolonged the decision to take a sabbatical from my coaching work, finding myself stuck in resistance, although it had become quite clear to me that a break was needed in order to allow the space for recovering my own creative energy that had become drained and blocked in the post-pandemic years. But once the decision to take a sabbatical had been made, the resistance that I had been feeling transformed into a possibility to start communicating again with that part in me that had been snowed under by life.
(Re)aligning yourself with your Source goes paired with decisions.
Are you willing to change the things in your current outer and inner circumstances that are keeping you out of alignment?
Are you willing to decide to do something that you feel in your bones is necessary, but requires the (temporary) loss of something that you’ve built for years?
Are you willing to step into that liminal space, that breeding ground for possibility, and find out what’s created from there?
When it comes to things like doing our creative work, starting a big personal development project, or even a healing journey, we often say “I need more space!” (or different variations of this, where the word “space” is substituted with things like “time”, for example).
But once we get the space, we (usually after an initial sensation of excitement) start feeling uncomfortable like hell. Because now, we’re no longer living the story of “I need more space so I can…”.
We’re IN that space. What now?!!?
That’s also why it’s absolutely true that it’s easier to be a “blocked artist” than getting (back) to creative practice. Being in that space where you’re showing up for your creative work can feel way more uncomfortable than talking about your creative block. At least you know what your identity is when you say you’re blocked. What’s beyond that identity is unknown, and what’s unknown is scary - at least to your Ego.
The same holds true for when you’ve let go of things to create space for that which you’re envisioning, or when you’ve let go of places and circumstances that have shaped or defined your identity in some way - like I had done when I embarked on my big “letting go project” that led me to arrive Helsinki, and landing in this liminal space where the next chapter is still unfolding.
A snapshot from October last year comes to my mind:
I had enrolled in a Vedic Art weekend course. Somehow the thought of intuitive painting felt attractive and made sense to me on this creative recovery path. I probably also had some Instagram-romantic idea about pouring blobs of paint on a canvas, sensing divine sparks of inspiration and having big epiphanies while I was doing it. Instead, that course sent me staring straight down a black hole - quite literally (just look at one of the paintings that came out of me that weekend):
I arrived to the art studio Saturday morning physically and mentally exhausted. What I didn’t tell you yet was that my start in Helsinki was all but smooth… I took on a day job and did a temporary return to my “old life” as an elementary music teacher, because I felt like the structure and routine of that job, and seeing colleagues daily could help me land in my new living environment. I had just spent 7 months living solo out of a suitcase, and I longed to have more people around me - although I really am a hermit at heart. I got the structure and routine I (thought I) was craving for, but the job also came with an unforeseen amount of challenges on the side. A LOT has changed in the school world since I last worked in an elementary school almost two decades ago, and this was definitely not an easy start. So there I was, that day in October at the art studio, although my body and mind had rather stayed in bed. But this was my precious free time and I was determined to at least try and use whatever energy was left in me to engage with creativity.
After having listened to the first lecture of the day and having completed our first assignment, I went out for my lunch break. The weather outside had turned from occasional drops of water into pouring rain. The city felt grey, cold and uninviting, although I was in the middle of one of the historical neighbourhoods with gorgeous Empire-style buildings, and I felt like a lost tourist using the maps on my iPhone to navigate to a nearby lunch café. When I finally found the café and sat down to eat my black bean bowl, I stared out of the window into the rainy street and felt tears rolling down my cheeks. “What the hell am I doing here?!” (In Helsinki, in Finland…). I wasn’t a lost tourist, but I felt lost. I was a returnee, back in my native country and the city I once used to live in after 21 years abroad, feeling like a complete stranger in a place that I was “supposed to know”, having let go of all the things that had defined my identity thus far. I wasn’t singing and making music, I wasn’t doing my vocal & artist coaching work, and despite having friendly colleagues at my day job I hadn’t yet “found my people” in my new environment.
Worst thing was, I couldn’t “blame” anybody but myself for having started letting go and letting go, until there was space for me to hear my inner voice literally tell me “Go back home, Katja” - and then deciding to act on that and let go of even more. It had made total sense up until that point. And in the beginning, all I felt was expansion and possibility.
I guess it goes like this:
The moment you decide “I’m gonna follow this inner voice”, you feel like: “Yeah, baby! I’m so aligned!! Universe, bring it on!!!”. You’re filled with ideas that things are now magically going to line up for you, and it’s all gonna be a smooth ascension from there onwards.
Well…I can reveal a secret: YES, your life will become filled with synchronicities of the “magical” kind (I’ve experienced those too), AND you’re probably also going to get into some turbulence at some point of your ascension. It’s actually quite common, and it doesn’t mean you’ve made the “wrong decision”.
But boy, did I wonder if I had made the “wrong decision” and have a long and angry monologue directed at my inner voice that day as left the lunch café. Back to the art studio I listened to some more philosophical lectures on “The Seventeen Vedic Principles on Art and Life” and continued painting things that looked like stormy, unruly seas and black holes, and with every stroke of paint I began feeling calmer. I guess my intuition knew that intuitive painting was good for me in the end.
It took another 3-4 months of being tossed around stormy seas related to handling the challenges at my day job and swirling around in the black hole of adjusting to being back in Finland, until I eventually did have an epiphany and realised that the words “Go back home, Katja” which I’d heard my inner voice tell me, probably had many meanings.
Where I was slowly finding back home to was my creativity, my creative practice, and to the part in me that is my essence.
In the midst of all the challenges, my creativity started to blossom again, simply because it became my anchor in this strange time. It has been guiding me to places and people, to try out new things like theatre clownery and learning to play the Caixa drum in the bateria of the local samba school Imperio do Papagaio. And what’s more, I found back to a daily practice. The beautiful thing is also, I think this homecoming will change the way my unique talents and gifts express themselves through work. My coaching will be even more powerful because I have committed myself to walking the talk. My work will find new expressions and avenues, new shapes and forms.
But for now, I haven’t been occupied with how to make “professional use” of any of the things that are unfolding - which has felt liberating and expansive. It has sent me back to that space where you’re engaging with your creativity, your creative expression and your art for its own sake - not for the sake of “making something out of it for someone else” or for the sake of “being productive and useful” in the way that perhaps our society would view those two terms.
Creative expression is always useful, though. In this liminal space that I’m finding myself in, singing and making music have become the grounding moments of my day, the moments when my mind doesn’t worry about the future or think about the past. It’s become my mindfulness practice, my meditation.
Creative expression can help you express what you don’t (yet) know how to express with words, or help you explore different options to figure out which one feels best. It can help you find possibilities and new routes where you thought there were none. What could be more useful than that?
And here’s how this all relates to this Substack:
My coaching sabbatical was also the reason I decided to let go of my initial plan to maintain writing for my Substack all through last year. I noticed it was too early to dedicate myself to writing, while I was still in the middle of a process that I needed to process before writing about it. But now, and maybe it’s that fresh new energy of May, and maybe it’s all the things I’ve experienced and processed, I feel there’s a lot of writing that wants to come out and it’s time to recommit. And this time I’m here to stay 😊 I intend to show up here weekly, though in some periods it might be more, and in some periods it might be less. In any case, right now I feel there’s a lot that wants to come out, and creating a regular creative practice around creating for this publication appeals to me. I also like Substack because it’s ads-free and is not dependant on algorithms that decide what you get to see and when. Did you know we can connect on the app which you can download for free?
I’ll write more about this “creative recovery” in future letters, essays and notes, as I like the idea of documenting that story and believe there’s many valuable insights and takeaways there that can help you create your own blueprint back to your creative Source when you need it.
Welcome (back). I’m so happy you’re here. ❤️
XO Katja
P.S. Here are some Q’s and Prompts for you:
What clutters your life and energy? What can you let go of to create space to better hear your inner guidance?
What identity are you holding on to that you’re willing to examine closer to see if it feels authentic to you or not at this point in your life? What identity have you (secretly) longed to explore but haven’t yet dared to try out? How could your creative expression help you in exploring this identity?
P.P.S. If you’re not already a subscriber to this publication, I’d like to invite you to become one. ❤️ By subscribing, you:
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